Maya called. Maybe it was curiosity about her
husband’s “one true love,” maybe Ethan had
pressured her, or maybe, as my research
suggested, she was genuinely lonely. Whatever
the reason, I became her chosen guest for the
show.
Ethan messaged me: “Vivian, I know you’re
trying to bond with Noah. I’ll wait for you.”
Psycho.
<
12:48
100
But I needed to maintain contact to figure out what was causing my episodes. I sent a
noncommittal reply, “Don’t flatter yourself. Seek professional help,” and resisted the urge to block him.
I agreed to all of Maya’s conditions, with one exception: “We’re staying at my place.” Ethan’s villa was out of the question. She agreed.
I had my family’s Westlake estate prepped.
When Maya arrived, she had an entourage in tow, besides Noah.
“These are Noah’s nutritionist and tutor…” she
explained nervously.
I shrugged. My house was big enough. As long as Ethan wasn’t there, I didn’t care.
Autumn arrived, painting the hills in vibrant
shades of red and gold. I walked Maya through
the estate, explaining the layout and amenities.
<
“So, this is what you like, Ms. Sterling,” she
murmured, her usually pale face flushed with a healthy glow against the backdrop of the fall
foliage.
Noah, clearly impressed, exclaimed, “Wow, your house is so big! Bigger than ours!” Then, in a stage whisper, “And way prettier than the one Daddy got for you.” He looked at me,
completely unaware of how his words might
hurt his mother.
I gave Noah a sidelong glance. “Did your dad put my name on the deed?”
“Huh?”
“Did he transfer ownership to me? Is my name
on the title? Did he specify it as a gift?” I
asked, my voice calm. “If not, it’s not my house.
How can it be ‘for me‘?”
Noah was stumped. He was too young to
understand the nuances of property law, but he
sensed the logic in my words. He wandered off,
deep in thought.
“You’re not what I expected, Ms. Sterling,”
Maya said. Surprisingly, compared to her
devastation at the airport, she seemed much
calmer now.
“What did you expect?”
“Well, some of it was right,” she admitted with
a faint smile. “Ethan talks about you constantly.
You are…striking.”
“I’m not interested in Ethan,” I said bluntly. “I
have no intention of breaking up your family. I
barely know him. I didn’t contact him when I
returned. He made all of that up himself.”
I immediately regretted my bluntness. Years of
unchecked impulses during episodes had
eroded my social skills. Maya was clearly in love.
with Ethan. Insulting him might upset her.
Before I could backpedal, she shook her head.
“I know,” she said quietly. “He’s…always loved
you.”
I scoffed. “You call that love?”
“He’s trying to climb the social ladder. Using
me was the easiest way,” I said, my voice flat.
“Isn’t that what he did to you, Ms. Hughes?”
Maya stared at me, as if struck. My words were
harsh, but true. Ethan’s so–called “love” was
likely a thin veneer over self–interest. He’d
clawed his way to the top of the Pierce family.
Every move he made was calculated. A person’s
affections couldn’t fluctuate so drastically. To
me, his actions, especially in the dream,
screamed “gold digger.”
Did he really carry a torch for me since high
school? If so, why marry Maya? Why feign
non about his affair W/hi, the dramatic
<
ignorance about nis aπair? why the gramatic
change in personality after Maya’s death in the
dream? Why the carefully crafted public image?
And why, after successfully absorbing both the
Hughes and Sterling fortunes, did he live to a
ripe old age, seemingly consumed by lonely
grief? Was he grieving? Or was he reveling in
his ill–gotten gains?
He’d reaped all the benefits while maintaining
the facade of a heartbroken man. I’d sooner
believe I was Cleopatra.
“But I’m different,” I added, my tone shifting.
“The Hughes family has nothing to offer the
Sterlings. We don’t need anyone. If I’m
interested in you, Ms. Hughes, it’s purely
because I’m interested in you.”
Maya’s eyes widened, her ears turning pink.
She should have been hostile. But she was like
water, absorbing all negativity without ripple or
resistance. Perhaps her sheltered upbringing
had made her easy prey But something
<
had made her easy prey. But something
bothered me. The Hughes family, a matriarchal
clan built and maintained by a single woman,
why hadn’t Maya’s grandmother equipped her
to stand on her own? Why pin her hopes on a
“good marriage”?
A person’s mindset usually reflects their
upbringing. But Maya’s grandmother’s actions
didn’t make sense. It was as if, upon meeting
Ethan, the narrative of her life had been
hijacked, forced onto a predetermined path. I
hadn’t believed in fate or destiny, but the older I
got, the more I felt like we were all puppets in a
grand cosmic play, our emotions manipulated
for some unseen audience’s amusement. So
many things felt… wrong. And it felt like I was
the only one who noticed. During my episodes,
lost in the throes of madness, I felt like the
world was insane, that they were all crazy, not
- me.
So, Maya, what role are you playing?
05
Larranged for Maya and Noah to stay in the
rooms next to mine. That night, for the first
time in months, I slept soundly, without
nightmares. I usually woke up at dawn, my sleep
restless and fragmented. But this morning, I
slept until the film crew arrived, their knocking
finally rousing me.
I oversaw several of the Sterling family
businesses. I’d also modeled for our brands and
been featured in fashion shows, so I wasn’t
camera–shy. It came with the territory of being
an heiress.
a
Breakfast was already laid out downstairs
healthy, meticulously arranged spread. Not our
usual housekeeper’s work. It must have been.
Maya’s staff. Used to simpler fare abroad, I sat
down and started eating. Noah, however, picked
at his food listlessly.
12:48
